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Guitar chord forum - chordie → Chordie's Chat Corner → Same Street
Not many songs on chordie lately,so thought i`d put one here.
still turning out songs like a sausage machine,but none
are tasty.
come on guys inspire me, lets hear some music from ya!
https://soundcloud.com/rough-as-gut/same-street
Nice tune about reminiscing, EB ... really enjoy your laid back finger-picking style and your Dylan-esque singing, which suits the song perfectly. I haven't anything to inspire you with, other than good wishes and a hearty "Keep 'em coming!"
Inspiration? As if you need it...lol
How about one about spammers, lining them all up against a wall and shooting them with a ball of their own excrement? You may be able to tell I've been wielding the ban hammer this morning?
Good song I love your fingerprint style.
TF & Phill
thanks for taking the time to listen and comment.
i owe you both a beer
ps the photo isn`t my house in case you were wondering
Good song Brian, Phil's idea about one about scammers sounds good.
i hate predictive text, it should have read; fingerpicking style not fingerprint!!!! i was wondering about the house...lol
EB you wrote a good folk song there with nice guitar picking and vocals. Eb that house down in Glenside in your photo on soundcloud with your song was owned by a Mr.Dorset. He achieved some notoriety in 1956 when he shot dead his wife’s lover George Grandison as Grandison and Mrs Dorset were leaving that house together. The shooting took place on the road outside the property. Mr Dorset was charged with murder, but his (relatively) successful defence of the act as a crime of passion saw him convicted of manslaughter instead, and he served one year in prison. Later in his life Mr Dorset attracted the reputation as an eccentric, sitting naked on his porch in full view of passing trains. He died early in 2011, and the house has since been sold. Herbert Dorset (known as Max Dorset) purchased the house and farm on 241 acres , in 1947 for £1500. He fought as a seaman with the Navy during World War Two and prior to this farmed at Silverstream and worked as a civil servant in the War Pensions Department. After purchasing the property he ran cattle on the land and continued to work for the Pensions Department. In 1951 part of the farm was taken for the Wellington-Foxton motorway. Mr Dorset was paid £1 per acre for the land and 10 shillings per tree lost. For our American friends a Kiwi Pound was worth about two dollars and ten shillings was round about a dollar.
Peatle - love it when a story attachs to the lyric !
You are the loremaster for sure!!!
Awesome my friend!
Jim
EB - Good stuff! Gave it a very mysterious sound - and now Peatle's info makes it even more mysterious!
Peatle - love it when a story attachs to the lyric !
You are the loremaster for sure!!!
Awesome my friend!
Jim
Cheers Jim thanks for the nice words. I was actually commenting about the photo of the house that EB put up on Soundcloud with the song. I think EB wrote his song about two guys meeting after 50 years who use to live on the same street. EB would have to verify that is what the story behind his song is. Max Dorset who use to own that house in the photo was an interesting eccentric character, Every day he would take the train into the city to go for a swim, he did that right up to the day he couldn't any more.
Dorset shot his wife's lover, George Grandison, as the adulterous couple tried to leave the house. Witnesses described him running to their car and firing three shots through the window. The car crashed into a telegraph pole and Grandison died soon after.They were about to take off together - it had reached that stage, Dorset had been aware it was going on for some time . . . they were a bit blatant about the whole thing.
Dorset faced murder charges. The defence aimed to have him found guilty of the lesser charge of manslaughter.
Dorset told his lawyers about a concealed stash of love letters between his wife and Mr Grandison hidden on the property.
A junior defence counsel, and a clerk were sent to find them.
Sure enough, a tobacco tin with the letters in it was exactly where he said it would be.
The letters were not produced at trial because the defence did not want Mr Dorset to take the stand.
Dorset was portrayed as a man pushed to breaking point by the end of his relationship.
He went to great lengths to get her back - he went looking for her in Australia where she had gone with Mr Grandison before the shooting. He was wandering the streets of Sydney and Melbourne looking for her.
In the end, the jurors' sympathy won out. It took them half an hour to find Dorset guilty - of manslaughter.
Justice Gresson seemed equally moved by Dorset. He sentenced him to just one year in prison..
I don't know what happened to Mrs Dorset, and it was said said he never spoke to Dorset again after the verdict.
After serving his sentence, Mr Dorset returned to the house and became a well-known eccentric, given to sunbathing naked on the front porch.
He died in 2011. I am sure Mr Dorset story would make a good folk song.
Peatle
Thanks for that history,i knew a bit about that house but not all.
It`s a house i often pass and think of it as from another time
compared to all the new crappy houses just up the road from it,
lets hope the developers don`t get hold of it
i used the photo because the song was about living 50 yrs ago
and it seemed an old house may convey that?
Cheers EB I hope the developers restore it instead of knocking it down as it is a character home with a good story.
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